


Strange Magic

by Little_Plebe



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Doctor Strange is not at all helpful, F/M, NOT OT3, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Romance, Steve and Bucky bonding, everyone lives in the tower, ot3 would make this weirder trust me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 21:23:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19281454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Plebe/pseuds/Little_Plebe
Summary: Even the Avengers won't be able to tell you for sure what happened that day at Times Square.“Uh, Thor,” Tony said quietly into the comm. “Guys. You might want to see this.”“Is Steve all right?” Natasha panted, running over, while Thor flew down from above.“Jesus!” gasped Clint, when he saw what they were all staring at.





	Strange Magic

**Author's Note:**

> For the people who are tired of mourning over Endgame and need a distraction. This story was written two years ago. Everyone is alive and happy.

For as long as he could remember, Steve had been attracted to Darcy. She was smart and plucky, open to new friendships and remarkably accepting of all the madness that surrounded their lives in the tower. He had met her by accident, having ventured into the labs for the first time in search of Bruce only to stumble upon her instead, standing on a table and trying to get into the vent above. (“CLINT! You give me back my taser or I’ll fucking end you!”) One look at her and Steve knew he would fall hard. There was just something about her, something freeing, that made him want to take her hand and run away, regrets and responsibilities be damned.

And that’s exactly why he couldn’t tell her how he felt about her. Bucky was out there somewhere, alone and fending for himself, struggling with his memories and the things he had done. Finding him had to take precedent over everything, even Darcy. Steve told himself that he would do something about his crush _after_ he found his best friend. Yet he couldn’t help himself from obsessing over the very real possibility of Darcy meeting someone else while he was gone, thus destroying his chance with her forever.

Thankfully, his fears remained unfounded and when, months later, he returned to the tower with Bucky by his side, Darcy was there waiting for him, her eyes shining and hands spread wide in welcome. It felt good to fall into her arms again. Comfortable and safe, she looked and smelled like home. Bucky was all right, the Soldier was under control. So, maybe Steve could finally make his move, make Darcy his like he had always wanted.

He found himself sitting alone in the common room one day, unseeing gaze fixed on the blank television screen, when the object of his desires hopped onto the couch beside him.

“Hi,” said Darcy, leaning in to kiss his cheek. She sat back and smiled at him, unaware of the butterflies doing the conga in his stomach. “What are you thinking about?”

“Food,” he fibbed quickly before mentally kicking himself. He could have told her the truth, could have responded with a smoldering ‘You’ and went from there. Too bad Steve wasn’t the smoldering type. Bucky was better at that kind of thing.

Darcy laughed. “Want me to whip something up for you? Something sweet?”

Oh, how well she knew him.

He shook his head. This was his chance. He could suggest going out, turn it into a date, grab her hair and ravish her at the end of it…

“Or we could go out,” she offered in a small, hopeful voice, stealing words right from his mouth.

His thoughts went wild with possibilities and he had to bite his lip hard to keep a wide and uncharacteristically dopey smile from being unleashed. But before he could respond, Natasha strode in followed closely by Bucky. The latter took in the sight before him, his eyes sweeping from Darcy to Steve and back, before he thrust his hands in his pockets and slouched in reluctantly.

“Sorry for the interruption,” said Natasha. Her unapologetic gaze landed on Darcy and she gave the brunette a once over. “Steve and I are going out. Keep this loser company, will you?” She jerked her thumb at Bucky, who blinked and looked at Darcy, shaking his head hard. Steve was doing the same thing.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Bucky growled at the same time that Steve said, “Why can’t they come with us?”

“We have an op to discuss,” responded Natasha curtly. “It’s classified.”

“Can’t it wait?”

“No.”

Steve groaned. And just when he was about to make some sort of headway with Darcy…

She shrugged when he apologized to her about leaving her there. “Pfft. Don’t worry. Barnes and I are going to be great pals.”

Steve smiled. “Okay.” He slapped Bucky on the shoulder affectionately before walking out of the door with Natasha. “Be nice to her.”

It wasn’t until later when Natasha casually mentioned Darcy being a perfect potential anchor for Bucky that Steve realized what a friendship between his best friend and his best girl would mean.

Darcy’s parting words rang ominously in his ears. _Barnes and I are going to be great pals._

No. No, that was impossible. Steve had known Bucky his whole life. His tastes were different. They had never fallen for the same girl. Never.

\---

He was wrong.

Because Darcy was special.

\---

He had been avoiding her.

He had been avoiding Bucky as well.

Darcy’s constant presence was instrumental in Bucky’s recovery and Steve saw more and more of the old Bucky emerging each day. He couldn’t be happier about it, but with that happiness, came a certain sense of sacrifice and emptiness. Because he _knew_ , Steve knew that Bucky had fallen for her as well. It had been a quick transition, from strangers to ‘I wanna be with her _all_ the fucking time’, the same cycle that Steve had gone through after he had met Darcy.

It was painful to watch.

Bucky and Darcy watching T.V. in the common room, Bucky lounging on the spot that was once Steve’s.

Bucky and Darcy in the kitchen, talking over each other as she taught him how to cook, something she had never done with Steve.

Bucky beating Darcy at board games.

Bucky gently grasping her wrist when she tried to feel his hair, offering to cut it for him.

His gut twisted at the sight and he choked, spinning around and hurrying out of the room. Bucky deserved this, he deserved to be happy, and if Darcy was the one that made him happy, well then Steve would step aside. Because friendship with him was more important than anything Steve would ever have with Darcy.

The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth but it was the right thing to do. And that’s what Steve Rogers was all about, wasn’t he? Someone who would always do right by others.

\---

Darcy caught up with him one lazy Saturday morning, her face red and eyes spouting fire. She came to a stop an inch away from his chest and glared up at him.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

Steve stared at her, caught off-guard by her anger and proximity. “What? Darcy… I…”

“I barely get to see you. I haven’t talked to you properly in weeks!” She growled and shoved him angrily. “What the fuck is your deal?”

He caught her hand when she made to shove him again. “Darce…”

“Did I wear you down? Do you not want to be friends anymore?” Her chin trembled worryingly and his resolve to stay away crumbled. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her to his front. She came willingly. She always did, no matter how angry she was with him or anyone else. Steve had always been able to comfort her.

“You didn’t wear me down, okay? I’ve just been busy,” he lied smoothly, running his fingers through her hair and trying not to revel in the feel of her clinging so desperately to him.

She sniffed and buried her face in his collar. “I miss you, Steve. It’s not the same without you.”

“You have Bucky,” he reminded her gently, grudgingly.

“Bucky’s not you,” she said immediately.

His heart jumped at her words. Surely she didn’t mean what he thought she meant.

“I thought you liked Bucky.”

She pulled back, frowning a little. “Oh, I like him. I like him a lot. But I want to hang out with you, too. It’s like… you don’t even care about us anymore. You’re off doing your own thing.”

Steve sighed. The problem was, he cared a little too much for them. But how could he explain it to Darcy in a way that didn’t make him sound like a complete ass?

“That’s enough moping,” Darcy commanded suddenly, breaking into his morbid thoughts. “You don’t need to explain anything to me. Just… you know, be around. I like seeing your pretty face every day.”

He gulped and nodded.

“And be ready. We’re going out tonight.”

His arm instinctively tightened around her. “You and me?”

“No, silly.” She giggled. “Bucky will be there, too. Can’t leave him behind now, can we?”

“Of course,” he said heavily, stepping away from her. She stood up on her tiptoes and pressed a noisy kiss to his cheek.

“See you at seven. Don’t be late.”

He watched her go, hair bouncing around her shoulders and eyes twinkling as she turned to give him one last wave. How could one person make his heart beat faster and break it into a million pieces at the same time?

“Touching.”

Steve whipped around to see Bucky emerge from the shadows, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

“Eavesdropping on people is rude, Buck.”

“Not when I’m the topic of conversation.”

Steve shook his head and turned to leave. He was in no mood for games.

“Hey,” Bucky said, catching his arm and forcing Steve to meet his gaze. “What is your problem?”

“Leave me alone, Buck. I’m not in the mood to talk.”

“That’s news to me,” Bucky said sarcastically, metal fingers firmly clutching Steve’s arm. “You’re _never_ in the mood to talk these days.”

Steve clenched his jaw and glared at him in stubborn silence.

“This is about Darcy, isn’t it?”

He slapped a hand to Bucky’s metal fingers and tried to pry them off.

“You’re in love with her.”

He still wouldn’t say anything.

“Dammit, Steve, talk to me!”

“What?” Steve exploded, throwing his hand up in the air. “What do you want me to say? Yes, I’m in love with Darcy. No, I’m not going to do anything about it.” Ignoring the stunned expression on Bucky’s face, he continued stonily, “You’re welcome to have her all to yourself. Just leave me out of it.”

“What the hell!” His grip on Steve’s arm tightened and he winced. “I’ve done nothing to warrant such behavior, Steve! I’ve not laid a single finger on Darcy till now.”

Steve scoffed. “But you want to!”

“It doesn’t matter if I want to or not. I’m not the one she wants!”

“Neither am I,” snapped Steve, finally freeing himself from his grip.

Bucky gaped at him. “You’re joking, right? Have you seen the way she looks at you?”

“Yeah, and she looks at Thor the same way. And Jane. And you…”

“You idiot, she talks about you all the time and acts like you hang the damn moon!”

She talked about him all the time? Well if that wasn’t flattering as shit, and really good for his ego. He stood there, temporarily speechless, wondering how he had been so fucking stupid about making his move when she thought so highly of him.

But then he looked at the resignation on Bucky’s face and thought of all the times he had seen Darcy and Bucky together, and his stomach fell. “You’re wrong, Buck. The last time I saw her, she kept going on and on about how much progress you’ve made as an amateur cook.”

“That’s ‘cause I have!” Bucky said indignantly, completely missing the point.

Steve sighed and shook his head. “I can’t do what you’re asking me. You deserve to be happy more than I do.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Such a martyr.”

“This isn’t right,” Steve continued resolutely.

“I’ve honestly lost count of the times you’ve spouted utter nonsense in my presence.”

“I’m serious, Buck.”

“So am I,” said Bucky firmly. “Let’s just forget everything and go to dinner tonight. If neither of us is going to act on our feelings, then we’ll leave the decision up to Darcy.”

Steve didn’t like the idea at all. He wanted Darcy all to himself. He was allowed to be selfish _for once in his damned life_! He was just human after all.

But he knew he couldn’t do that to Bucky. Hell, he couldn’t do that to _any_ of his friends. This was as good a plan as any. So, he sighed in defeat and nodded. “Yeah. Let Darcy decide.”

Bucky snorted at the hopelessness in his voice. “Trust me when I say you’ve nothing to worry about.”

If only Steve could believe him…

\---

The dinner never happened. There was a call to assemble and Steve only had enough time to message Darcy telling her he’d make it up to her later before they were all suiting up and piling into the quinjet.

A man, supposedly a wizard, was wreaking havoc on Times Square. By the time the Avengers got there, another wizard (this one sporting a red cape) had joined the first and they were engaged in a fierce battle of strength and sorcery. At first, the Avengers didn’t understand what was happening or if they were even needed there. These men were magicians! How could you defeat a magician without magic?

“The Avengers are here! Fashionably late as always,” the wizard with the red cape greeted, even as his hands produced some sort of orange energy to zap the enemy. “I’m Dr. Strange. And this is my friend Mordo. He’s acting a little crazy right now but he’s really a good guy deep inside.”

Steve exchanged baffled glances with Thor and Tony. What the actual fuck?

In retaliation to Dr. Strange’s words, Mordo did something crazier. It seemed like he possessed the power to conjure some sort of demon monsters and soon Steve and the others found themselves surrounded.

“Well, here goes nothing,” deadpanned Clint, before releasing his first arrow.

And the fight began.

Steve regretted not bringing Bruce with them. The area was already badly destroyed; the Hulk would have just worsened it. However, even with Natasha leaping from one demon to another, Clint pelting arrow after arrow, Thor’s electricity blowing several demons into smithereens, and Tony wildly blasting his repulsors, it still wasn’t enough. Mordo just kept conjuring more demons to keep the Avengers from joining in the real fight.

He was extremely powerful and Steve could see the strain on Strange’s face as they fought. He threw his shield at a demon creeping up behind Natasha and turned to Bucky.

“We need to get behind him,” he panted, catching his shield when it whizzed back to him. “He uses his hands to do magic. If we can… I dunno…”

Bucky considered it. “I get it. If it doesn’t do the trick, we’ll at least have tried.”

“We might get zapped.”

“Or worse, turned into demons.” Bucky grinned. “Let’s do this.”

“Thor, Tony,” Steve spoke into the comm. “We’re going in. Cover us.”

“On your mark, Cap,” said Tony, flying over them and keeping the demons at bay with well-aimed repulsor blasts while both super soldiers ran toward Mordo.

Later, if you asked the Avengers what happened next, none of them would be able to tell you for sure. Not because whatever happened, happened so fast that no one caught it. Also not because a strange glow surrounded Steve and Bucky the moment they jumped on Mordo and twisted both his hands behind his back, thus taking the brunt of his power into their super souped-up systems.

Mostly. _Mostly_ , it was because what happened… didn’t make any fucking sense at all.

Mordo was defeated because of Steve and Bucky’s heroics but when Dr. Strange sent him and his demons backpacking through a portal and after the glow faded, there was only one body lying prone on the ground where there should have been two. Alarmed, Tony zoomed over to see if one of the super soldiers had accidentally been sucked into the portal.

He hovered over the unconscious body, unsure.

“Uh, Thor,” he said quietly into the comm. “Guys. You might want to see this.”

“Is Steve all right?” Natasha panted, running over, while Thor flew down from above.

“Jesus!” gasped Clint, when he saw what they were all staring at.

“Weren’t there two men here?” Dr. Strange politely inquired, appearing beside them and looking very satisfied with himself about the victory.

“You,” Tony snapped, spinning to face the sorcerer. “You’re coming with us. Now!”

\---

There was a strange weight on his left shoulder, a certain sense of physical imbalance focused more on his left side that made him feel like he had grown an extra limb there. He groaned and cracked his eyes open, blearily taking in his surroundings. He was in the med bay of the Tower. His head felt heavy and his entire body ached. What the hell had happened?

The last thing he remembered was getting ready for dinner.

 _Darcy_ , a voice in his head reminded him and the memory of what had happened at Times Square slowly filtered into his mind. He closed his eyes, listening to the heart monitor beeping steadily to his left. He was alive. He was okay. He was going to be f— wait, was he thinking in Romanian?

“I don’t know Romanian,” he croaked.

The beeping of the heart monitor sped up as he panicked. What on earth was happening? The door to the room opened and Bruce and Helen rushed in. Helen hastened to the heart monitor and switched it off. Bruce came to stand by the bed, a pen and doctor’s pad in his hands. He had never seen Dr. Banner look so unsure in his life. He almost looked afraid.

“Who are you?”

That was a weird question to ask. Bruce knew him. They had fought together. Bruce made him tea every morning.

“Steve Ro…” he trailed away. There was a voice inside his head insisting he was someone else. “Bucky Barnes… no.”

“No?”

Why didn’t he know his own name? Was he Steve or Bucky? Was he—he blinked—was he thinking in Romanian again?

“I’m not sure,” he mumbled in puzzlement.

Bruce and Helen exchanged significant looks. Something wasn’t right.

“Where’s Darcy?” he asked instead.

“She’s at the lab,” Helen informed him kindly. “She doesn’t know you’re here.”

“Can I see her?”

“Not yet, St—soldier.” Bruce fumbled with his doctor’s pad. “Do you… feel any different?”

“Aside from the fact that I’m thinking in Romanian, not really.” He laughed nervously. “My left arm _does_ feel a little weird.”

He wiggled his fingers experimentally and brought his arm up to study it. Oh good, his metal arm was intact.

_His metal arm._

_His metal…_

“Jesus, fuck!” he exclaimed, scrambling into a sitting position and shoving at the arm with his right hand. “What the hell? Bruce! Why do I have a metal arm? BRUCE!” he roared, his panic reaching phenomenal levels in a matter of seconds. “Ce se întâmplă cu mine? Ce se întâmplă?!”

“His heart rate’s increasing again,” Helen shouted.

“I got it.”

The last thing he remembered was Bruce producing a needle and Helen holding him down as best as she could.

\---

When he woke up again, he wasn’t alone. Natasha and Clint were sitting on either side of his bed, playing ball.

“Darcy,” he moaned, voice hoarse with sleep. He was pretty sure he had been dreaming about her. “I want… where’s Darcy?”

“Interesting,” mused Natasha.

“What’s interesting?” Clint wanted to know.

“Bruce said their thoughts clash. Darcy is the only constant in their mind. It’s interesting.”

“Shut up, Natalia. Your voice grates on my ear drums.”

She sat up straight, missing the ball Clint threw at her. “Bucky?”

He shook his head. “Steve.”

She raised a brow. “Then, why did you call me Natalia instead of Natasha?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, grimacing slightly. His brain confused him.

“This is so weird,” said Clint, looking spooked. “Should I call the doctors?”

Natasha nodded and the archer quickly left.

“Just tell me what’s wrong with me.”

“I don’t… I don’t know how to…” He hadn’t thought he would ever see the Black Widow fumble for words. She was always so precise, and her calm businesslike manner in difficult situations was an inspiration to them all.

“Spit it out, Nat.”

“We think Steve and Bucky are no longer two different people,” she said hurriedly, watching him closely for a reaction.

He looked at his left hand, his metal hand, and paled.

“Shit!”

“Strange says Mordo’s magic merged you two together… somehow.”

There was a shuffle outside the door and the other Avengers plus Helen Cho filed in.

“How do you feel, soldier?” Helen asked him.

It was weird to be called soldier instead of his name. But what was his name? Was it Steve or Bucky?

“Can you fix us?” he demanded.

“I… uh… we’re working on it.”

“Come on, Cho,” Tony piped up seriously. “Don’t lie to the man. We don’t know how to separate you, soldier.”

Everyone’s eyes went to Thor next but he, too, had nothing to offer. “Asgard knows not how to aid you with this dilemma. I’m sorry, my friend.”

His face fell. His first instinct was to rage at them, to throw things, use his metal arm to get shit done, but that was Bucky. The Steve inside him forced him to remain calm, to think about this rationally with little to no violence involved.

“None of us have ever seen anything like this before,” said Bruce hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck. “We don’t know how to deal with this.”

“Can’t Dr. Strange do anything? Magic bound us. Magic can unbind us.”

“Strange left to find a cure… but Steve,” Tony paused and shook his head at his slip of tongue. “It might take some time.”

“Or more time,” Clint muttered under his breath.

Man, he was totally and completely screwed this time.

\---

The first thing he did after he was discharged from the med bay was find a mirror and look at himself. It was surreal. The man staring back at him looked familiar and new at the same time. He had Steve’s eyes, Steve’s neat mop of hair and Steve’s lips. But the hair was darker like Bucky’s, there was stubble on his face, his jaw was more pronounced and then there was the fucking metal arm that they both shared. It didn’t feel heavy anymore. After a week in the hospital and some helpful physiotherapy sessions, he was used to it.

What he wasn’t used to was the sorry state of his mind, which was constantly at war with itself. Steve and Bucky may have been best friends but they were very different people with different tastes and contrasting emotional responses to situations. When Bucky wanted Cheerios, Steve craved cake. When Steve wanted to watch television, Bucky wanted to play board games. Bucky liked to jog, Steve wanted to race. Steve was nothing without his shield, Bucky was all about knives. The worst part of it was that his physical health and fighting ability was also being affected by this. He lost sparring matches to Tony for Christ’s sake who wasn’t even a skilled combatant.

“Why did you make that jump?” demanded Natasha from her seat by the mat while Tony helped him up.

“I think I was going to go for the high jump and sweep kick.”

“That would have been effective. Then, why did you fall?”

“I don’t know. My body decided that the duck and side punch would be a better move.”

Natasha pursed her lips and thought about it. “You have two different voices inside your head telling you what to do,” she stated bluntly. “You can’t fight like this. Until Strange can find a solution, you need to learn to control your mind.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get that. But what do you mean I can’t fight like this?”

“It means you’re officially relieved of your world saving duties till we say so.”

“Fuck you, Natalia!”

“Language,” Tony said mildly.

“I’m your leader!”

“Not anymore,” Natasha said, brilliantly veiling her reluctance at having to say these words. “Thor will take your place until you can figure your shit out. In the meantime, we’re all here to help you as best as we can.”

“I won’t listen to this!” He turned and stomped out, kicking at the nearest dumbbell as he went. First, they wouldn’t let him leave the Avengers block, then they wouldn’t let him meet Darcy, and now they were pulling him off superhero duty as well.

How much worse could his life get?

_This is your fault, Buck._

_It was your idea to jump on Mordo, punk._

\---

He was sitting in his in-suite kitchen, staring at a box of untouched pizza, when he heard faint scraping in the vents. He pricked his ears and listened closely for a second or two before shrugging and going back to his brooding. He hadn’t seen or talked to Darcy in two weeks. JARVIS has been keeping tabs on her for him but not seeing her was making him restless. Tony thought Darcy (and probably everyone who knew the super soldiers) would freak the hell out at the sight of him. But he couldn’t see how confining him to the upper floors of the tower was an apt solution.

Besides, if the Avengers were doing well enough handling the new him, so could Darcy. She was a strong dame.

The scraping noise returned, closer this time, and he stood up suspiciously, blue gaze swiveling up to see a mane of dark hair hanging out of the open vent.

“What the…!” he uttered in surprise before there was a feminine shriek and the next second, he had his arms full of— “Darcy?”

Her cheeks were flushed and she was breathing hard. He glanced up at the hole in his ceiling. Had she really just crawled out of a fucking vent? His immediate instinct to reprimand her for her carelessness flew out of the window when he noticed the way she was looking at him, eyes wide and lips parted in utter awe as she studied him unabashedly.

“Look at you,” she whispered, raising her hand to trace the sharp line of his jaw.

His pulse jumped at her light touch and his mouth went dry as he drank her in hungrily. Her skin was as smooth as ever, lips as lush and pink as he remembered, she was wearing the Mjolnir printed tank top that she loved and, God, but she was absolutely breathtaking! It felt like he was seeing her after years and couldn’t stop staring at her.

She squirmed uncomfortably in his arms and he carefully placed her on the kitchen island, pushing closer to stand between her legs because hell if he was going to let her out of his reach again.

“Thor told me but I couldn’t believe him,” she said softly, thumb absently swiping over the scruff on his chin. “This… you… shit! You look so different.”

He didn’t know if she was talking about Steve or Bucky but he didn’t care, not when she was touching him the way she was, light fingers running over his shoulders, tracing lines on his metal arm, reaching up to flick a piece of hair from his forehead… it was innocent exploration, he knew, but it was turning him on. He boldly placed his hands on her waist and squeezed.

“This doesn’t freak you out?”

Her eyes swept over his face again before she replied, “A little.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I missed you.”

“Who?”

“Both of you.”

His heart skipped a beat and when she shifted closer expectantly, he gave in and let her draw him into a hug. She was warm and soft just the way he remembered, her ample curves fitting perfectly into the hard ridges of his body. He closed his eyes and buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the familiar scent of jasmine mixed with sandalwood. Now that he had her in his arms, he couldn’t comprehend how he had survived without her for two weeks, without seeing the undying twinkle in her eye, without the impish curve of her lips, without those tiny moments of weightlessness when she kissed his cheek or rumpled his hair or smacked his arm when he won at scrabble.

“I missed you, too,” he told her, reluctantly pulling away.

“Good.” She grinned. “Because I’m here to stay.”

\---

She wasn’t kidding when she said she was there to stay. They made quick work of the pizza while commiserating about him being under house arrest and Darcy being forbidden to see him.

“Tony actually had JARVIS change my clearance level so that I couldn’t get up here,” she told him incredulously. “Well, joke’s on him ‘cause I’ve learnt to use the vents now.”

Later, they retreated to his bedroom, where Darcy leapt shamelessly on the bed and he sat on the floor, leaning his head back onto the mattress. A second later, she crawled across the bed to lay her head next to his, her dark waves tumbling over the edge like a waterfall. He turned his face to see her watching him speculatively.

“What does it feel like?” she asked. “Do you hate it? Is it confusing?”

“A bit.”

“Have your memories merged as well?”

“Hmm. I remember flying the plane into the arctic and I also remember being tortured by HYDRA. It’s weird.”

“That’s terrible,” she said with a frown. “How do you deal with it?”

He shrugged. “I _have_ dealt with it, before the merge. So it’s not that bad. I get combined nightmares sometimes but that’s not as worrisome as frequently wanting to do different things. Be it in combat or movie preferences or my work out schedule, it’s like… one side of my brain is in constant conflict with the other.”

“Listen to the dominant side,” she suggested instantly.

“Both are equally dominant.”

“Ooh,” she said cheekily. “I bet they are.”

“Behave,” he scolded, fixing a mock glare on her.

She giggled. “So, what are you going to do?”

“Dunno. Wait for Strange to fix me, I guess.”

“What if he can’t?” she asked anxiously.

He winced and looked away from her, not knowing how to respond. If the Sorcerer Supreme couldn’t figure out a solution to this mess, he didn’t know who could. His adam’s apple bobbed heavily as he stared at the ceiling, vainly trying to control his riotous thoughts. He was thinking in Romanian again but it was broken, as English randomly seeped through. Everything still made sense because he was fluent in both languages but the opposing directions his thoughts sometimes ran in was frustrating.

Darcy shifted closer and circled an arm around his head to cup his throat protectively. Her hair tickled his shoulder and she nuzzled close to speak fiercely into his ear, “I won’t let anything happen to you. We’ll figure this out, okay?”

“Okay.”

\---

She woke up with a plan next day and told him to stay put in his suite while she went to get some things. She returned with people, not things.

“What’s going on?” he asked when Thor and Clint followed her in half an hour later.

“Simple exercise,” Darcy chirped happily. “Clint, take your place at the table. You two are going to arm wrestle.”

He looked at both men dubiously. Arm wrestling? “What’s that going to achieve?”

“Just do as she says, buddy,” advised Clint. “She’s got it all mapped out.”

“Had a dream about it,” said Darcy proudly. “Now wrestle.”

They clasped hands and Clint mouthed, “1, 2, 3, go.”

It wasn’t a fair fight. Clint was strong but not stronger than two super soldiers put together. To his credit, he lasted a good minute before admitting defeat.

Thor was a different matter entirely. He was a demigod and Clint yawned loudly in the background while they wrestled for long minutes. In the end, Thor got tired of holding himself back and swiftly slammed their clasped hands down on the table.

“Forgive me, my friend,” he said unapologetically, grinning wide.

All three looked at Darcy, who was watching them hopefully, as if expecting them to have figured out what this all meant. When no one said anything, she rolled her eyes and explained, “One, now you know your strength. Two, what did you just do while you were wrestling?”

“Tried to win?”

“Exactly! Your mind was focused on _one_ thing – winning.”

He frowned at her, completely nonplussed, before realization dawned and his eyes widened comically. “So, if I can do it once, I can do it again. Focus on one thing.”

“Right. You don’t need to listen to a dominant side. You need to come to a common ground. Compromise the best you can or else try new things that you haven’t tried before.”

“I like this idea,” Clint chimed in. “You can try new fighting techniques, mate.”

“And you need to start meditating,” continued Darcy, bouncing eagerly on her toes. “It helps calm the mind and improves focus.”

“Bruce can help with that,” agreed Thor.

“I’m going to get Nat and Tony in on this,” said Clint, all businesslike. “They can help.”

“This might just work, Steve,” smiled Thor before following Clint out of the door.

He huffed irritably. “Why do people keep calling me Steve?”

“It’s the eyes,” said Darcy, smiling softly. “You have Steve’s eyes. It’s the first thing people notice when they look at you and it reminds them of Steve.”

He nodded slowly. Suppose that made sense.

_What do you think? Is it okay if people call us Steve?_

_What’s in a name?_

\---

Everyone had to admit Darcy’s plan was genius. A month into it and he was already showing signs of progress. He had set a simple routine for himself: meditate with Bruce every morning (meditation really put a lot of things into perspective), spar with Natasha and Clint after that. It was demotivating, not to mention maddening, taking continuous hits at first, unable to make up his mind about which move to use in the split second that Natasha took to attack him again. But he liked to think that he was slowly getting better at it.

Tony was responsible for knowledge distribution. Steve was interested in technology and its use while Bucky was fascinated with the science of it all. So, he was learning to indulge in both. Knowing more not only made him feel intelligent, it also helped simplify his decision making process. Thor kept telling him to think like one man, not two. Because that’s who he was now – a new man, stronger, faster, smarter. Thor’s advice wasn’t impossible but it was easier said than done.

Meanwhile, Darcy’s job was to take care of the little things, like categorize his movie and food preferences, encourage him to do better each day, calm him down whenever he got aggravated with his unique situation, and just in general her job was to exist. Her existence made everything better. She was his sole anchor, the only person capable of making him laugh these days. When he was with her, his thoughts were in perfect sync. Because she was the only thing in the world that both Steve _and_ Bucky wanted…

There were still times when he caught her off-guard and she would spend an inappropriate amount of time staring at his face in wonder while he tried his damnedest not to be affected by it.

“Darcy,” he said the third time it happened, snapping his fingers in front of her face.

She jumped and looked away. “Sorry… sorry.”

“What are you thinking,” he asked curiously, “when you look at me like that?”

“I don’t… know,” she replied, avoiding his gaze. “Nothing in particular.”

He saw right through her. “Liar.”

She flushed prettily. “I can’t help it. You’re different… but same. And hotter.”

“Woah.” He sat up straight, suddenly very interested. “You don’t think I was hot before?”

“You were,” she hastened to reply. “But now, it’s like… more. You know?”

He shook his head innocently. He really wanted to hear her say this.

She huffed and continued, “It’s like… a combination of blue eyes, warmth, righteousness, charm, mystery and… the murder strut.”

He was amused. “The what?”

“Oh, you know,” she said, waving her hands helplessly. “The way Bucky walks.”

“I see.” He leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist. “What else?”

She glared at him, realizing what he was trying to do. “Eat your fucking soup.”

He barked out a laugh and happily returned to his dinner, occasionally stealing glances at Darcy, who was steadfastly avoiding looking at him. He was seeing this side of her for the first time. It was endearing, not to mention gratifying, to see her fumble in his presence. He couldn’t deny her recent behavior toward him gave him hope.

But once she left, doubts began to creep into his head. What he was doing, flirting with her? He was supposed to exercise control when it came to her, at least until Strange could find a way to fix him. It had been his own decision, before the merge, to let Darcy choose between Steve and Bucky.

Some would say the situation had sorted itself. There was no question of choice between two people anymore, it was just _him_ now and the merge made him want Darcy more than ever; but what would happen when he went back to normal? Moving ahead with her now would unnecessarily complicate things later. So maybe he should stay away.

The only problem with that plan was, as time passed and his thoughts slowly started to sync, he got used to this body, to the new memories, new personality traits and the new way of looking at everything. The two conflicting voices in his head had all but vanished and anything that remained… well, those were his own thoughts, emotions and decisions. His. Singular.

He was starting to _believe_ that he was one person. Not two trapped in one.

\---

Natasha deemed him field ready one fine Monday morning after he had pinned her to the mat no less than three times in one session.

“Let’s see,” said Clint, checking things off a list. “Master tactician, excellent Frisbee thrower, great with knives, expert marksman, skilled at hand-to-hand combat… damn, you’re the whole package, Sergeant Justice.”

“What did you just call me?”

“You’ll need a new name, of course,” explained Clint, grinning. “Nat and I have thought of a few. Nomad, Sergeant Justice, The Shadow…”

“The Shadow?”

“It’s cool.”

He rolled his eyes. “Why can’t I be the Winter Soldier?”

Natasha quirked a brow. “You don’t mind?”

“Why would I mind? I _am_ the Winter Soldier.”

“But you’re also Captain America.”

He shrugged. “Captain America is a known entity, a public face. No one has seen the Winter Soldier. Plus, I have the metal arm to prove it.”

Clint and Natasha exchanged looks, then Natasha smirked and announced, “Fair enough. Welcome back to the team, Winter Soldier.”

He snorted. “Don’t be cheesy.”

\---

“How are you guys going to explain Captain America’s absence?” Darcy’s muffled voice carried through the closed bathroom door.

“I don’t know,” he called, toweling himself lazily. “He probably fell into a volcano or something.”

“You better be joking!”

He snickered. “Maybe he died protecting a fellow Avenger. Pretty heroic, eh?”

Wrapping the towel around his hips, he opened the door and stepped out, eyes sweeping the room for Darcy. To his left, the door to his closet was open and her tiny feet peeked out from below.

“Leave the room, Darce,” he ordered gently.

“Wait.” And then her feet disappeared.

What the hell was she doing clambering up his closet?

He went to stand behind her. She was unsuccessfully trying to reach the top shelf. “Where’s the blue shirt you wore last Thursday?” Her voice was strained and in spite of his amusement at her antics, he took pity on her and reached up to swipe said blue shirt from the pile.

“This one?” he asked, holding it before her eyes as she jumped down.

“Yes!” She snatched it from his hand and turned around with a smile that faded the second her eyes landed on him. “Oh.” Pink tinged her cheeks and she stood rooted in place, blinking rapidly at the low slung towel around his waist.

She was making _him_ feel hot, too. “Darcy. Out. Now,” he said, resting a protective hand on the knot of his towel.

“Right. Yes,” she mumbled, looking a bit dazed. “I’m going.”

She elbowed the closet door shut as she went but stopped a few paces ahead, having remembered she was still holding his shirt. “Wear this,” she said eagerly, backtracking to give it back to him. Her knuckles were white from clutching the fabric a little too tightly. “You look nice in it.”

He tried not to be flattered by the effect he was clearly having on her, for it wasn’t because of him. Was it? It was because he wasn’t clothed. It was a natural reaction. It was probably embarrassment…

Darcy cleared his doubts the next second when she surged up and pressed her lips to his. He froze, shirt slipping from his fingers and eyes going wide. _What?_

She pulled away quickly and eyed him nervously. “I… sorry. Shouldn’t have done that…”

He gaped at her, heart pounding wildly and lips tingling from her touch, before his instincts kicked in and he yanked her into his arms. She let out a surprised squeak and braced her hands on his chest, peering up at him with big hopeful eyes. He let his gaze drop to her mouth and dipped his head experimentally. She immediately tilted her face up, her eyelids fluttering heavily and pink lips parting in silent invitation.

A helpless groan escaped him at the sight and _to hell with it_ he decided before sinking his metal hand into her hair and sealing her mouth with his in a rough kiss. She gasped at his intensity, her nails scraping over his pectoral muscles in a way that made him shudder and push her back until she was pressed against the wall. He couldn’t be gentle with her, not when he had waited so long to hold her, taste her, not when she was so soft and pliant in his arms, his to devour and possess if he so wished.

She let him crush her body to his, let him be demanding, her breathy moans filling the air around them as he hungrily kissed down her neck, nipping and licking until she snapped her hips into his, begging for more. He was breathing hard when he pulled away, his wayward hand slipping out of her blouse and coming to rest on her hips.

“We should stop,” he panted, even as his fingers stroked and kneaded her flesh, unable to let go of her completely.

She opened her eyes to reveal pupils blown wide with lust. “Wha… no!”

“I can’t. I can’t do this.” He waited for the haze in her eyes to clear and made sure she was listening before he continued, “Being with you now will only complicate things when I… when…”

“When you what?” she challenged, her voice hitching due to breathlessness. “Not five minutes ago you were talking about killing off Captain America. You _know_ things are never going to go back to the way they were.”

“But Strange—”

“Would have found a cure by now if there was one.”

He shook his head miserably. “It isn’t fair to you.”

In response, she launched up on her tiptoes and kissed him hard. “Now you listen to me, Mr. Nobility,” she ordered calmly after pulling away. “You don’t have to be so torn up about this. Sure, Steve and Bucky are a part of you. They made you. But you’re a person and you’re allowed to do stuff and want stuff. Plus, you say you’re better, right? You’re _you_. And I want _you_.” She paused and raised her eyebrows at him. “Got it?”

Her words both stunned and thrilled him. She was right. He was better now, in so many ways than one. And he may never go back to being who he was before. This was his life now and he was… surprisingly happy, especially now that he knew Darcy wanted him.

“Are you done or do you want to brood some more?” she teased, wrapping her arms around his waist and bouncing up to press a kiss to his shoulder.

He huffed out a laugh and closed his eyes, letting her explore his skin with her lips. “I’m done.”

“Good. Now drop that pesky towel.”

\---

_6 months later_

They were in the Avengers kitchen, stealing sweet lingering kisses over breakfast, when Tony walked in, followed by Dr. Strange.

“Heya, lovebirds,” the billionaire greeted cheerfully. “Look who’s back with news!”

“I think I may have found a spell to reverse—,” Dr. Strange began proudly only to be interrupted by two loud voices telling him to-

“Fuck off!”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to blame GlynnisIsta8 for this fic. If you want to see what our super soldier looks like after the merge, check this [amazing piece of manip art](https://littleplebe.tumblr.com/post/158714441014/lillianfromaccounting-glynnisi) on tumblr.


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